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Updated: June 25, 2025
Summoning in her rage a strength she had never before known, she hurled the Lion on top of the Tiger. Then, grabbing a huge net, she threw it over the two of them before they had any time to move out of the way. "Now I have you all, my dearies! All three of that foolish kid's friendies! And I'll see you all into your demises right now!" the Witch said in a whisper.
"So you see, my dearies, you needn't be anxious about me, 'at all at all', seeing that I am living in this atmosphere of art and the odour of sanctity, and that I have kept only one tiny little thing back, and I am going to tell you that now. You were afraid that I might go too often to the theatre, Aunt Anna.
And Mother upstairs in her sick-room knew nothing as yet, while Father, away on his long hill-round, was equally ignorant. It seemed to make things so much more terrible to the little boys that they alone should know. "Come away, beside the fire, dearies."
"Die die!" cried the hag, sharply, angered at the child's persistence. "'Tis easy to talk. To snuff a candle out is to die. Poof, 'tis done! But the young and beautiful like you, my dearies, do not so die at Machecoul. No; rather as a dying candle flickers out falls low, and rises again, so they die.
It was the custom at Sunny Bank for the teachers to go around to the girls' rooms during the study hour to help, suggest, or give a little "boost" over the hummocky places, so when a pleasant voice asked at the door: "Can I help you any, dearies?" Cicely answered from her room: "Oh, Miss Howard, will you please tell me something about this problem? I am afraid my head is muddled."
A little maid then appeared with a tray, on which were nine little blue china saucers and a jug of milk. The nine little saucers were ranged in a semicircle, and filled with milk, whereupon the old lady cried out, "Who says breakfast, dearies? Who says breakfast breakfast?" This invitation was immediately responded to by the nine cats.
"Couldn't we tend store for you a little while?" asked Bunny again, as he saw Mrs. Golden thinking, as his mother sometimes thought, when he or Sue asked her if they might do something. "We could ask you where things are that we don't know about," added Sue, "and we wouldn't talk loud or make a noise." "Bless your hearts, dearies!" sighed Mrs. Golden.
And oh, my darlings, where have you been, and how has it all come about?" But a string of questions was the first answer she got. "Have you come to look for us, dear Barbara? Did Grandpapa and Grandmamma send you, and Toby too? How did you know which way to come? And have you seen Tim? Did Tim tell you?" "Tim, Tim, I know nought of who Tim is, my dearies," said Barbara, shaking her head.
"I'm goin' to put on my best dress, too, Mumzie," said Dot, and Don whispered that he wanted to put on his Sunday suit. "All right, dearies, but hurry so you will be here if he comes," returned Mrs. Starr, smiling with anticipation.
In the cabin, struggling against the old crone, were Betty and Amy, disheveled and almost hysterical, but otherwise safe and sound. "Allen!" gasped Betty, holding out her hands to him. He clasped them warmly, and the old crone, seeing that the whole affair was over, slunk off, whining something about meaning no harm to the "dearies"!
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